


date night

by FunAndWhimsy



Series: another day [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bathtub Sex, F/M, Fluff, Identity Issues, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:44:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunAndWhimsy/pseuds/FunAndWhimsy
Summary: Moving on with their lives after Sendak might never be easy for Pidge and Shiro, but it gets easier by the dobosh. And nights like these, when they shut out the world and their worst memories and just spend time with each other, make them feel like a normal life might, someday, be in their reach.





	date night

**Author's Note:**

> Set roughly six months post-rescue.
> 
> There's some funky name/POV stuff happening, so:   
> \- Pidge only ever thinks of herself as "Pidge", and thinks of Shiro as both "Shiro" and "Takashi" depending on what he wants  
> \- Shiro thinks of her as "Pidge" most of the time, but "Katie" on certain occasions.

"And you remembered to get the crib back from Matt, and you know if we didn't pack up enough food you can interrupt us, and - "

"Do we have to do this every time?" Lance asks. "I'm the one who taught you how to take care of her, chill."

Shiro pouts a little, because he doesn't really know how to chill when it comes to Hatoko, but doesn't protest or try to run Lance through any more checklists when Lance plucks her from his arms. She coos and burbles and reaches for his face - Pidge is pretty sure Lance is her favorite - and Shiro goes all melty like he does whenever she's especially cute. Lance knows to take advantage of an opportunity when it presents itself and escapes before Shiro recovers and remembers something else he wanted to lecture about.

"Set the table?" Pidge asks, to give him something to do other than mope. He's so fucking cute, especially when he gives her a sheepish little smile because he knows he's being silly. Pidge has to focus on all the reheating instructions Hunk gave her so she doesn't just set her chin in her hands and moon over him while he bumps around the kitchenette finding silverware. Pidge never really thought she'd be the quiet domestic type, but with Shiro - and in space, and as part of a band of action heroes, and after everything she's been through - it makes her feel calm, settled. Grounded in a way she's never been and never expected to like.

The oven beeps, and Pidge busies herself pulling too many trays out (does Hunk know they're only two people?) and arranging them on cooling racks so she can start serving. Shiro comes over to carry things, bowls of soup that smell like heaven, plates full of food, a basket of flatbread. All of it looks so good Pidge is kind of annoyed by how much there is; getting some of everything before she can't move anymore is a strategic challenge. Getting some of everything and still having enough energy for any after-dinner activities is the nightmare mode version.

"Hold on," Shiro says, before she can sit down. "I have to do the thing."

Pidge rolls her eyes and watches him walk out the door; he waits a couple of ticks before he knocks, and Pidge tries not to giggle too much when she answers.

"Good evening, Katie," he says, hands her a bouquet of sweet-smelling fake flowers. She’s been with him all day, but she gives herself a tick or two to look at him like it’s the first time, the soft shirt stretched too much across his broad shoulders, the perfect square of his jaw, his long hair pulled back in a bun with the white streak braided and tucked behind his ear. Sometimes when they do this, she starts thinking too much about the fiction, about what sort of person she’d have to be to look at this marble statue of a man and invite him to dinner.

"Hello, Takashi," she says. "Where were you even keeping these?"

"On the floor out here."

"You fucking dork," she says, and goes up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"It smells good in here," he says, following her back to the table. "You must have been cooking all dobosh."

"Oh yeah," Pidge says. "I spent vargas slaving over a hot stove."

He pulls out her chair for her, because he's a fucking dork, and she drops the flowers in a short vase he left on the table before she sits. Pidge closes her eyes and takes a few deep, steadying breaths while he takes his seat; it's been phoebs and she still can't sit across anyone at a dinner table without thinking of Sendak, without the deep scars on her shoulders lighting up with phantom pain. Shiro loves these dinners so much, though, and he's pushing so hard to get past so many things she can work on this for him. And maybe someday she'll be able to eat somewhere other than the couch without making it a whole thing.

"Okay?"

"Yeah," she says, smiles at him. This one's easier to shake off than a lot of the rest of it.

"Good," he says, and digs in to his soup. Pidge grabs a handful of bread from the basket and starts tearing it up to drop in her own bowl, so it'll be good and soggy when she gets to it. There's something mashed-potatoes-y on her plate and she starts there; it's buttery and herb-y and almost kind of a little bit like sweet potatoes, and she moans around her first mouthful.

"So," Shiro says, passing up the chance to tease her about it, "nice weather we're having."

Pidge laughs. "We live on a spaceship, there is no weather."

"The climate control is nice, then."

"Is there a number of date where we don't have to do pretend small talk anymore?"

"You're no fun," he says, but goes back to his soup instead of asking how her dobosh was or if she's seen any new movies. She liked it, when he first started, when he insisted that if they were going to learn how to be people again they should get to know each other as people; she still likes it, honestly, she's just run out of clever things to say and she hates when Shiro's funnier than she is.

There are better ways to flirt, like stealing food off his plate even though she has more than she wants on her own, or trying to kick him under the table until he takes pity on her and stretches out his leg so she can actually reach, or making goofy faces at him when he looks up so he makes some right back. Shiro's so fun, and on some level she knew if he could make her laugh on some of their worst days he could make her laugh anywhere, but it's still so novel to experience it without the drawbacks.

"I think last time I was the one grilling you," Shiro says, after they've mostly stopped eating. "So it's your turn."

"Okay," Pidge says, takes a sip of her water. The interviewing is weirder than the small talk, probably, but she likes it better, especially now they’re past the surface _it’s weird that you had my baby and I don’t know your favorite color_ stuff. "It's probably not good date talk but I'm curious about your relationships. And, um, your identity I guess."

"Anything specific?"

"I don't know. You've said a few times how long it's been since you were with a woman, and when you talk about others it's always men. I guess I'm curious about - "

"Whether you're an exception?" he asks.

"Not in those words," she says. "But sure."

"Well, Adam's my only other serious relationship, and we were together for a little over five years, so that's why it seems like all my stories are about men. I’m way _more_ into men, and there are a lot of people in my life who think I'm gay and I've never bothered to correct them, but it's more…I don't know, it's people. You're going to call me a dork again - "

"Obviously."

"But I don't care a lot about the early parts, the meeting new people and getting to know them and all that weird figuring out if you go together stuff you do at first. I always want to rush to the being in love part, so it's less about what turns me on - you know better than most how bad a judge of character my dick is - and more about who's already in my life that gives me, or I think could give me, the stuff I want out of a relationship. I, uh, got my heart broken pretty bad a few times before I figured it out."

"Aww," Pidge says. "That's sweet." Is that patronizing? Ugh. She's not always good with the way Shiro does feelings, straightforward and honest and so willing to be vulnerable for the right person. She can't tell how much of it is Shiro and how much of it is age; maybe she'll be good at this someday, or maybe it’s just not part of her skill set.

"I guess," he says, and laughs a little. "When I asked Adam out he spent ten minutes going on about how this is why he's the top student even if he isn't a flashy record-breaking asshole, and told me we'd been dating for three months. I thought I was just making friends with another cadet who got how high-intensity I was, and then when I got comfortable enough to be like oh, hey, this might be something else, let's do this he was already all in."

“No,” Pidge says, “come on. How could he not know you didn’t know, unless he never made a single move on you?”

"He was very respectful," Shiro says, with a bashful smile, his cheeks gone a little pink. It's probably weird to find him this cute when he's talking about Adam but he gets all soft and sweet and wistful and she thinks about him looking at her like that and all her insides turn to total mush. “He thought I was shy.”

"So if you don't like dating," she says, and instead of saying more she just gestures vaguely to the table, the flowers, the two of them, the general concept of all their plans for the evening, of Hatoko being with Lance so they won't be interrupted.

"I already know how I feel about you. I like all the, I don't know, the ceremony of it, I just don't like the part where I'm freaking out because my brain's skipped ahead to 'if we got married, would it last' and they're trying to see if they want a second date. With you I can just have a good time being a romantic idiot the way I like to, instead of finding you new tools or sitting for six vargas while you tweak a setting in my arm I won't even notice."

"Oh," Pidge says, takes a few gulps of water; she can feel her face heating up, still reacts like the first time he sat her down after their rescue and said he understood if it was just a shared trauma thing, and they should probably take some time to themselves to figure that out, but his feelings were his feelings and he'd really like to see what they could be when they healed. It just makes her want to giggle, all the excess good feelings bubbling out of her, and she likes the way Shiro looks at her when she laughs, but sometimes it'd be nice to have a little self-control.

"Did Hunk take care of dessert, too?" he asks, gives her an out. It's so frustrating that she needs one but her heart always flips over when he reads her this well.

"I think one of us would be super jealous if he did," she says, and Shiro quirks an eyebrow at her. "If you'll put all this away, I'll go get it ready."

"Yes ma'am," he says, salutes her with the wrong hand, and Pidge rolls her eyes at herself as she leaves the room; that made her heart flip over, too.

*

Takashi takes his time packing Hunk's dinner into a thousand plastic containers, measuring everything into the right proportions to pack individual servings for himself and Katie. He'd been uncomfortable, at first, when Allura said she didn't want to cram all three of them in a paladin bedroom, and also all the paladin rooms were taken, and there's a whole floor of rooms for important guests going almost entirely unused; he didn't want to feel separate from the team before, when he was their leader, and he definitely didn't want it when he was trying to learn to be a person around people again. But the distance gives them ways to reach out to the team - Lance's old Earth game system is set up in the sitting room now, not a closet - and the team ways to reach out to them - Hunk volunteers hours every phoeb to make them a date night dinner - and it's good to be deliberate about these things sometimes.

Enough food to last them a phoeb, at least, packed up and neatly stored in the fridge, Takashi turns to the table, clears it and starts washing the dinner dishes. Katie will fiddle with whatever it is she's setting up all night if he lets her, and he'll go see what it is and stop her soon enough, but he lets her have her time. He's gotten better at letting her do things for him, at trusting her when she says taking care of him isn't a leftover impulse from when it was necessary. He's gotten better about a lot of things, they both have.

Takashi loads the last of the dishes into the sonic washer, sets it running, and then just stands in the kitchen for a tick or two, savoring the anticipation building in his bones. But he's too impatient to enjoy it for long, and finally goes to the bedroom to see what Katie has planned. She's not in there, and the only light is the glow from the bathroom door, so Takashi keeps going until all he can do is stop in his tracks and stare.

The giant bathtub is full, and the water is inky black and glittering, a faint echo of deep space. It smells even better in here than the kitchen did when Katie was reheating food, something deep and earthy and spicy that he wants to wrap up in like a blanket. Katie is kneeling next to the tub, half-naked and somehow covered in glitter already, screwing the tops back on a pretty ridiculous number of bottles. They've definitely been banned from Allura's fancy bath stuff so she definitely either broke in or had one of the guys do it for her. That's so sweet. 

"Looks good," he says, and Katie glances up at him and smiles, her crooked, too-big smile that takes up at least half of her face.

"Any excuse to get you wet and naked," she says.

"You don't need an excuse," Takashi says, and pulls his shirt off because that's just something he does now, doesn't need to hesitate or talk himself into it or remind himself Katie has already seen it all, seen him worse off than this. She wolf-whistles, and he tosses his shirt at her but it just goes sailing over her head.

"Wow."

"Impressive, I know."

Katie laughs, and stands up to strip off her tank top and boxers so she can step into the tub, and like it always does her body, and the look on her face when she laughs, and the dark water lapping at her shoulders while she sighs, drives the urge to tease right out of him and he can't get the rest of his clothes off and join her fast enough. The water's perfect, which means it's too hot for her, and he pushes her into the wall with a grateful kiss. She laughs into his mouth and wraps her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, like she always does, and he turns them so he can sit on the bench and keep her in his lap, where he always wants her. Where she belongs.

Sometimes Takashi is terrified of how much he loves her, how intensely it burns, like he might have to split into a third person to handle it and be Takashi, and the Champion, and whatever the animal he becomes when he's all caught up in Katie is. He won't, he won't ever have to because she just took the Champion and made him hers and that's enough, but there are times he looks at her and loves her so much his skin isn't big enough to hold it all in.

Katie laughs again and bites his lower lip, quick and sharp, before wiggling around so she can lean back against him and sink a little deeper into the water. She sighs, and slips her eyes closed, and Takashi is so full and content all he can do is press a kiss to the top of her head and close his eyes, too. He lets his hands drift over her, skin all soft and silky under the water where the bath oils coat it, skimming her breasts and her stomach and her thighs, not with any deliberation, not trying to tease, just because he can't possibly not be touching her. And she returns the favor, coaxes him to spread his legs so she can sit between them and he can wrap them around her middle, holding her as close as he can with his thighs while she rubs his feet. Nothing could feel better than this.

"I get anxious about things like this, sometimes," Katie says, voice pitched low like she's trying not to kill the mood. "Like, when we just…when it's nice like this."

"Like we're about to be punished," Takashi says.

"Or like you just had to do something really, really bad to get it for us."

"Yeah," he says, kisses the top of her head again. "We can get out, if you want."

"No," she says, "not until the water turns to ice and we've absorbed so much of this oil we smell good the rest of our lives."

"That's the spirit."

Katie laughs and wriggles back into him like it's possible to get any closer. Maybe it is, maybe she knows something he doesn't and if she just keeps trying one day they'll melt into the same person. She'd probably hate it, though; she needs her space. As good as the foot rub is, his thighs are getting sore, so he unwraps and goes back to trailing his fingers over her soft skin and the rough scars that mark it. Takashi's in real danger of falling asleep but Katie will probably make sure he doesn't drown. She's good like that.

"You know, when I brought up dessert I was kind of hoping for baked goods along with the romantic gesture."

Katie leans forward a little so she can look at him over her shoulder, eyes glinting very promisingly. "You want a treat, good boy?"

Fuck. Takashi groans against the bottom dropping out of his stomach, too easy for her, and she laughs as she half-walks, half-swims to the far side of the tub. There's a smooth white box over there, about the size of a shoebox, and if Takashi had noticed it before now he might not have made it into the water before he spread his legs and started begging. Katie is so good to him.

The hefty dick she pulls out of the soft casing in the box makes Takashi's mouth water; a too-familiar shape (round at the head, thick in the middle, narrower base to clench up around, as long as Katie's forearm and thicker than her upper arm at its widest point) sends the blood rushing to his dick, a valiant attempt to get him hard enough to reflect how eager he is. She usually doesn't let him watch this part, all the fiddly work she has to do to get her little project attached in all the right places and drawing quintessence from her pretty, flushed cunt so it can work its magic for them. Katie striding out of the bathroom with the dildo all set up, moving like it's part of her, like it's always been part of her, is good, but watching her sit with her legs spread, cunt already red and wanting between her legs, watching the faces she makes while she touches herself and maneuvers her toy - his toy - into position is even better.

A thin strip on the underside glows blue once she's turned it on, and she smirks at him while she strokes herself a few times, twitching her hips into the pressure of her hand. She's fucking gorgeous, pink from the heat of the water, slick and glittering, and Shiro needs her so much it hurts.

"You said you might want to let him out tonight," she says. "If you still do, we can fool around in here but we should move to the bedroom before I fuck you."

He has been feeling a little pent-up, a little too quick to anger, a little too easy to agitate, and he knows if he lets himself go for a night he'll feel better for a while, but…no, not tonight, not as blissful and relaxed as he is right now. Another time, when they're both in the mood for the collar and cuffs and the fight he needs to be the Champion for her.

"You're mine tonight," Shiro says, doesn't even have to try to pitch his voice low and rough the way that makes her shiver. "Not his."

"Oh yeah?" Pidge says, sliding into the water with her eyebrow quirked. "Yours? Sure that's not the other way around?"

Pidge fits so perfectly between his legs, narrow waist and hips caged just right between his strong thighs with barely any effort on Shiro's part. He half expects her to hook her arms under his thighs, spread him open, fold him in half, let the lip of the tub dig into his back while she reminds him how surprisingly strong he can be, but she just reaches for his shoulder, leans forward a little awkwardly so she can wrap her other hand around his soft cock and stroke him to hardness.

"Shh," he says, and she laughs, squeezes her hand a little. "Let me pretend."

"Whatever you need," she says, and leans in to kiss him. Shiro sighs and lets his mouth drop open for her, rocks his hips into the grip of her small, strong hand. She tightens and loosens her grip again and again, twists her wrist as she works her way up his cock. She's so good at this, reminding his body how to just feel good without anything else to it. Nothing has to hurt or overwhelm, everything can just be good and good and good until he drowns in it, in her.

Katie lets go of him and climbs into his lap, shifts until his cock is nestled between her cheeks and they both moan. She's all slippery from the water and the oil, and he grips her hips so he can rock up into her at his own pace, simulate fucking her the way he wants to be fucked while she squirms in his grip, cock slipping against his abs. If he could just push inside her right now, without any prep, he would, chase the heat and tightness of her, watch her fall apart for him.

He needs her inside too badly for that, though. Shiro leans down to capture her lips in a hungry kiss, bites her lip and scrapes his teeth because it always makes her shiver for him, makes her whine. He's too easy for her, but she's just as easy for him.

"Fuck me," he murmurs against her lips, and she nips at him before sliding off his lap.

"Get up," Katie says, a little low and just a little rough, and as soon as Shiro does she takes his place on the bench. She can't exactly pat her lap to tell him what she wants, not when the water's too dark to see, but she splashes at the surface and he gets the picture. It takes some doing - his knees bang against the edge of the tub, and if his balance changes just a little he won’t be able to keep from floating away - but he straddles her lap like she wants, looms over her the way she loves. Katie’s hands come up to cup his ass like they're magnetically drawn, and Takashi vacuum-seals his metal hand to the tile outside the tub so he can hold position when his knees go weak.

Takashi wiggles his hips until her big cock is nestled between his cheeks, the smooth metal a little cooler than his body temperature even in the hot water. Katie spreads him wide, blunt nails digging in a little, and teases at his hole with her thumb.

"Want prep?"

Takashi could answer, but it's easier, better to shift until the head of her cock catches on his rim, until she has to move her thumb out of the way so he can sink down, inch by agonizing inch, on her hard, unyielding cock. Even as relaxed as he is, even as slippery as Katie’s cock is from bath oils and its self-lubricating feature, taking her like this is always intense, a dull pressure at the base of his spine that makes his cock slap up against his stomach.

"Shit," Katie gasps, squeezes his ass harder. She's so sensitive like this; whatever she added to that cock to make it feel good for her, she nailed it like she nails everything she sets her mind to. Shiro clenches up a little, just to savor the stretch a little more, just to watch her eyes drop closed and hear the way she whines for him. "Fuck, Shiro."

"Takashi," he says, rolls his hips to find the best angle. It's a silly thing to insist on, but Katie lets him, because if there's anyone else in the universe who understands how your name can change you it's her. Takashi and Katie are still human, still fine, never went through ten phoebs in Galra captivity, never saw the arena, never fought and fucked and hurt each other for Sendak's entertainment. And on the one night every phoeb they pretend to be human again, that's important. It's everything.

Katie nods, teeth dug into her lower lip while she fucks her hips up, grinds deeper into him, usually so patient but already losing it tonight. She's explained the toy and the quintessence feedback and the way sensations transfer before, but it's always in the afterglow and all he really remembers is it's most intense for her like this, when all he does is rock and squeeze and shift his hips, practically massaging her cock with his ass. She's pretty when she's overwhelmed, prettier the worse it is, and Shiro arches his back a little so he can grind down a little harder, keep the pressure up. Katie slides her hands around to grab his hips, like she can hold him still, or make him move when he doesn't want to; she's strong, but he's Takashi.

Takashi must be heating up; the water’s cool where it laps against his back, cooler than the heat of Katie's thighs between his, and it makes him want - need - to get even closer, get all that heat just for himself. Katie's eyes flutter, the sweet way they do when she can't keep them open but wants to look at him, and it makes him want to preen, flex, show off for her, so he does. She groans, low and deep, and he clenches up around her and it goes up an octave, his favorite instrument to play. 

The water surges around them, splashing onto the surrounding tile, when he leans forward again, braces hard on his metal arm, and grinds down so hard and relentless it feels like she might drill a hole right through him if he keeps it up. He doesn't have to for long; she must have wanted this, been planning it, biting her lip and going a little pink and thinking about how badly she wants to wreck him, must have been so fucking ready by the time he walked into the bathroom. Katie comes for him beautifully, like she always does, face screwed up and hips jerking and odd, raw little _ah, ah, ah_ s scraping their way out of her throat.

Takashi fucks her through it, doesn't let up until her gasps melt together into one long, steady whine, until her grip on his hips switches from pulling to pushing. He doesn't let her move him, can't possibly bear the idea of not having every inch of her fat cock stuffed inside him, but he stops moving, lets her catch her breath.

"You're a menace," she says, finally, and laughs, breathless. Katie's thighs are shaking a little when she rocks up into him, still oversensitive, and he's pretty sure when her grip tightens on his hips it's more to steady herself than anything else. "Come on, this is about you."

"And making you come is my favorite." Takashi leans down over her as well as he can, awkward hunch to his back and awkward angle of her cock inside him but he needs to press his lips against her ear so she shivers when he says it. He nips her ear and straightens back up, and before Katie can recover enough to say anything else he pulls up so her cock nearly slips out of him and slams back down, sets the quick, punishing rhythm they both love so much.

It's a good thing his hand is vacuum-sealed to the tile because Takashi loses his mind fast like this, whimpers every time his hole stretches around the thickest point and gasps like it's a surprise every single time he slams back down and the head rocks against his prostate. His thighs shake with the effort of working against the water, and he drops his head because holding it up is too much effort. Keeping his eyes open is too much effort. All he can do is fuck himself on Katie's spectacular cock, all he can do is feel and feel and feel the fire licking through his veins and the heat radiating out from all the places her cock is pressing against so perfectly, the oblivion licking at the edges of his brain. 

And then she starts vibrating and Takashi can't help but cry out, voice going hoarse at the end of it, the fat head of her cock buzzing so intensely against his prostate he sees stars. His human hand keeps slipping in the oily water splashing onto the tile so he grabs a fistful of Katie's hair to brace himself, holds tight so he can fuck himself harder, faster, more, please more. Katie jerks her hips when he pulls her hair and it's perfect, just right, and when Takashi keeps bouncing on her cock her hips push up to meet him. The water sloshes around them, spilling over the edge of the tub like waves on the shore, and the way it splashes against Takashi's cock is a perfect tease. Katie's blunt nails dig into his hips and she's coming again, whining through gritted teeth, the vibrations changing with every clench of her body as she rides it out. Takashi chokes out her name, gasping for breath as he follows her, the sharp, uneven buzzing against his prostate not so much pushing him over the edge as throwing him.

Takashi catches his breath, barely, and manages to come back to himself enough to untangle his hand from Katie's hair. He scratches his fingertips gently against her scalp in apology for trying to yank her hair out, and she sighs for him, soft and shaky and satisfied. It takes him longer than he's proud of to remember how to unseal his arm, and they both wince when he lifts himself off her cock and collapses back into the water, floating away from her a little. There's no better way in the universe to enjoy the afterglow than floating, and soon enough Katie has her cock detached and set on the edge of the tub so she can float next to him.

It's easier for her; the tub's big enough she swam a few laps in it the first time Allura showed it to them just to prove she could. Takashi has to stretch out with his arms over his head and his toes extended to touch both sides at once, but he _can_ touch both sides at once. Katie squirms over to bump up against his side, and he soaks up the contact like oxygen after too long in space. 

"Hunk did make actual dessert, by the way," she says, soft and a little dreamy. "It's in the fridge."

She shrieks when he wraps an arm around her and pulls her under, and when she comes up for air she's laughing so hard he thinks for a second she might have gotten a lungful of water, and all he can do is kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her.

*

Pidge is a crier, it's not a secret to her or anyone who's known her for more than ten minutes, but even knowing that it always feels weird when she gets the urge to cry out of nowhere. Of course, since Sendak, "out of nowhere" hasn’t really been a thing; the arbitrary urges to cry always end up bringing something up, or she realizes later what the situation she was in reminded her of, or she can chalk it up to general trauma. And that's probably what it is this time, but she can't quite access the part of herself that understands that when she's just soft and warm and content, limbs heavy from a good - great, amazing - fuck and the last bite of Hunk's tart thick on her tongue. The sheets are impossibly soft and her skin's so soft and spicy-smelling from the bath and Takashi keeps making those soft goofy in-love faces at her over his own tart. So she bites back the urge when it comes, because crying when everything is this good feels...ungrateful.

"Be honest," she says, pokes Takashi with her toes. "These were better after sex."

"That's not the point," he says, grabs her foot and yanks so she slides down and ends up flat on her back with Shiro looming over her. He's so fast when he needs to be. "If you're going to lie to me about something as sacred as whether we have sweets for dessert, how can I ever trust you again?"

"Yeah," she says, struggles to keep her voice as dry as she wants when his dumb goofy face makes her want to giggle. "I'd have to prove I could be reliable by, like, saving your life, or being gentle with your alter ego who wants to kill me."

"He doesn't want to kill you," Takashi says. "He _loves_ you."

Pidge does laugh then, and wraps her arms around his shoulders to drag him down for a kiss. Takashi when he's happy and silly like this is still new for her, and her stomach flutters when he pulls back to grin at her so wide it splits his face in half. He’s ridiculous and beautiful and he loves her and he never thinks even her most ridiculous feelings are dismissable. 

"Hey," she says, feeling so good she has to deal with the one little thing she doesn't love about these nights but almost guilty enough about killing the mood to let it go one more phoeb. "I don't like being Katie?"

Takashi's face falls a little, not quite a frown. "Is that a question?"

Pidge sighs and shakes her head. "No, I just - I was trying to make it sound gentle, I guess. I - it's okay, that you want that, and I know where you're coming from and I think it's sweet, I just - I don't feel about Katie like you feel about Takashi."

"Okay," Takashi says, and because he's kind of perfect he doesn't push, or insist on apologizing for all the phoebs she told him it was okay and meant it. He’s gotten so good at trusting her _yes_ as much as her _no_. The experiment just didn't work for her, aside from how much she likes the way _Takashi_ tastes on her lips. "You be as Pidge as you wanna be."

He grins again when she laughs, always so proud of himself even though she's the easiest mark in the universe. He looks at her like she's something precious when she's laughing at something he said, not precious and fragile like he does when she's having a bad day, but like he can't believe what he's looking at. It's too much to handle, so she kisses him long and sweet until he pulls away.

"You think Lance would be mad if I called and asked him to bring Hatoko back?"

"Yes," Pidge says. "But not really. And we need to keep reminding him whose baby she is because he's pretty determined to kidnap her. The real question is are you up to putting pants on when he gets here?"

"No," Takashi says. "But I can probably handle a robe."

"Impressive."

"You don't get to be the Black Paladin for nothing."

Huh. Pidge tugs a little at his hair, just enough he knows to tip back a little so she can look at him. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you call yourself a paladin since we got back."

Takashi shrugs, an awkward little gesture when he's lying on top of her like this, braced on his elbows. "It's something I'm working on."

"And you know if you want to - "

"I know," he says; Pidge rolls her eyes but doesn't scold him for interrupting; he knows, and she's not going to get off-track if he finally wants to talk about this. "I don't think I want to fly a lion again, probably ever. And it's not - obviously some of it's still fear, but on the Castle I actually feel in control. Even when I'm too far away to provide weapons backup, I can see what's going on, guide you from a distance, give you a perspective you don't have. Telling Hunk where a fresh clump of fighters is coming from so he can decide how to handle it feels better than being the one making the decisions ever did."

"You love giving orders," Pidge says, and he winks just like she was hoping he would.

"Now I get to give bigger orders, and focus on the bigger picture instead of worrying if I made every tiny in-the-moment decision right. And speaking of orders..." Shiro trails off, pushes himself up so he can reach the wall console and punch in a few numbers. "Lance?"

"Again?" Lance says, sleepy and frustrated through the comms. "Stop asking me to take her for the night when what you mean is 'take her until every reasonable person is sleeping and then trudge all the way back up to the royal suites with all her stuff."

"By this point you should know that's what we mean," Pidge says. Lance huffs, and grumbles, and the line goes dead, but he'll show up in fifteen doboshes like always because he gets it. And tomorrow Shiro'll offer him a post-training massage or Pidge will run drills with him because he likes shooting at live targets better than dummies and with Lance that and a couple hugs are all he needs to feel as appreciated as he deserves.

Takashi knocks the tart tins out of bed so they clatter across the floor and falls back into bed next to her, metal arm draped over her waist.

"I can't just hand Hatoko to someone else and walk out the door when I know I might die every time I do that," he says, like there hadn’t just been an interruption. "And I don't want - I'm glad you can, it's good that you can, I want you to be able to go on like this never happened as much as possible. You're better in a lion, you have been since the day I met you, and the universe needs that. But I'm twenty-seven years old and feel more like seventy-seven, and I'm okay taking an excuse to slow down for a while, back up a little."

Pidge brushes her hand through his hair, a little glittery and a little greasy from the bath oils, and finally asks the question she can't stop wanting to but can't stop dreading.

"Do you regret not taking Hatoko back to Earth with my dad when you had the chance?"

Takashi's face goes soft, warm eyes and plush lips and eyebrows arched a little in concern, like he always does when she gets like this, like Pidge's anxiety is all on his shoulders and he has to make it go away immediately.

"No," he says, "not for a tick. I might not want to be right next to you in a lion anymore, but where you go, I go. I would've gone with you if you wanted, but I'm glad we both stayed. I like where we are, I like where we're headed."

"Me, too," she says, and he kisses her, soft and sweet and quick, before getting out of bed so he can slip on his robe, answer the door, and bring their baby back to nestle in between them for as long as she'll stay asleep. Pidge didn't want this, couldn't imagine ever wanting it, but now that she has it she won't ever, ever let it go.


End file.
